A person sacrifices himself to become a saint in a chaotic world of martial arts.

The news spread very quickly.

Su Bai had just returned to his office and sat down, not even having a sip of tea, when the sound of rapid hoofbeats came from outside. The sound grew louder and louder, like raindrops hitting the ground, gradually becoming clearer and louder, until it reached the prison gate in the blink of an eye.

He suddenly stood up, pushed back his chair, and strode out.

He pushed open the door, and the bright light outside made him squint. When he reached the open space outside the prison, he saw a group of people dismounting.

The two leading figures were Ning Yuechan and Wei Zhiyao.

Ning Yuechan was dressed in a black, close-fitting outfit today, with the familiar Qingfeng sword hanging at her waist. Her long hair was tied up high with a plain ribbon, giving her an imposing and heroic air. Her dismounting was swift and clean—left foot in the stirrup, right leg straddling, her entire body arcing through the air before landing smoothly and firmly, not even the hem of her clothes fluttering. Her gaze swept towards the prison entrance, her eyes sharp as knives.

Wei Zhiyao followed behind, still with that composed demeanor, dressed in a blue robe with a token hanging at his waist. His brows were slightly furrowed, clearly indicating that he had also heard the news and was pondering it to himself.

"Su Bai." Ning Yuechan saw him and strode over. Her footsteps kicked up dust, each step firm and solid, her black boots making a dull thud on the flagstones. "I heard they discovered the symbols of the Reincarnation Sect?"

Su Bai clasped his hands in a respectful bow, his waist slightly bent, his movements respectful yet not servile: "Yes. There are six in total, the deepest one is at the entrance to the staircase leading to the basement."

Ning Yuechan raised an eyebrow, said nothing, but simply nodded. The constables and guards following behind her dispersed and began to deploy around the prison. These men were elites transferred from the county government and the Northern Garrison Command; their movements were swift and synchronized, without unnecessary shouts, only the rustling of footsteps and occasional whispers. Soon, the prison entrance was completely surrounded—some stood guard on either side of the gate, some crouched in the shadows of the walls, some climbed onto rooftops to keep watch, and others patrolled the surrounding streets and alleys.

Wei Zhiyao walked up to Su Bai and asked in a low voice, "Can you confirm that it was their people who came in?" His voice was not loud, but it was clear and audible, and it carried a hint of seriousness.

Su Bai shook his head: "I'm not sure. But those marks are very fresh, and there's still charcoal ash on the edges, so it should have been done in the last couple of days. I had someone check, but there have been too many people coming and going recently, so it's impossible to check them one by one."

Wei Zhiyao pondered for a moment, then turned to Ning Yuechan: "My lady, shall I take some men down to take a look?"

Ning Yuechan waved her hand decisively: "No rush. First, guard the entrance and check everyone coming in and out. Since they left a mark, they'll definitely make a move." She paused, her gaze falling on the guards coming and going at the prison gate, her eyes sharp as knives. "If we guard it, they won't be able to get in. If we can't, going down there will be pointless."

Just then, a series of hurried footsteps came from inside the prison.

The footsteps thumped and pounded as they approached, hurried and chaotic, as if someone was running desperately. Everyone looked in the direction of the sound and saw a constable stumbling and staggering out of the prison gate.

The man was dressed in a plain, dark-colored official uniform, stained with dust and charcoal ash. His constable's hat was pulled low over his head, obscuring his face. He ran hurriedly, panting, and when he reached Ning Yuechan, he almost knelt on one knee with a thud, clasping his hands in a respectful greeting:

"My lord, something terrible has happened! The prison is on fire!"

His voice was hoarse, tinged with urgency and panic, as if something truly terrible had happened.

Ning Yuechan's gaze sharpened: "Where is the fire going?"

The constable looked up—

In that instant, Ning Yuechan's pupils contracted sharply.

The moment the constable looked up, his expression showed no panic, but rather a strange smile—a very faint smile, just a slight upturn of the corners of his mouth, yet it exuded an indescribable chill.

She had never seen that face before. It was fair-skinned with ordinary features, the kind of face that you wouldn't notice if you threw it into a crowd.

But the light shining in those eyes was not the gaze of an ordinary constable—it was the gaze of a martial artist, the sharpness and composure of someone who had experienced life-or-death battles and licked blood from the edge of a knife.

True Qi Realm!

Ning Yuechan felt a sudden sense of alarm, and her body reacted even faster than her mind.

She stomped her foot hard, and a thin crack appeared on the bluestone slab. She floated backward, moving as fast as a black shadow.

At the same time, she struck out with her right palm—a seemingly casual strike, yet it contained all her internal strength, her trump card.

The palm strike whistled, compressing the air and creating a sharp whistling sound, as if something was hissing.

The fake constable, seeing that his sneak attack had failed, was not flustered. He sneered and met the attack with a palm strike of his own.

His palm strike was faintly tinged with an eerie bluish-black hue and carried a foul, fishy smell, clearly indicating some kind of insidious and vicious technique.

"Bang!"

The two palms collided, producing a muffled thud, like a thunderclap exploding in one's ears, causing a sharp pain in the eardrums. A shockwave erupted from between their palms, sweeping outwards and stirring up dust on the ground, forming a visible ripple.

The surrounding constables were thrown about by the shockwave; some lost their footing and fell to the ground, while others stumbled backward and bumped into the wall to regain their balance.

The fake constable staggered and took three steps back.

Each step left a deep footprint on the bluestone slab—the first step cracked the slab; the second step widened the cracks, and fragments of stone splintered out; the third step shattered the slab into several pieces, causing it to collapse.

He steadied himself, looked up at Ning Yuechan, a hint of surprise and a touch of apprehension flashing in his eyes.

"Officer Ning truly lives up to his reputation. He saw through my disguise so easily!" He spoke, his voice hoarse and unpleasant, like fingernails scratching rough cloth, or the banging of a broken gong. "Unfortunately, you can't stop me today."

Before he finished speaking, he leaped forward and rushed towards the prison gate.

His speed was astonishing; his feet moved in rapid succession, his figure flickering like a gray afterimage.

Just then, a figure suddenly pounced out from the side.

The blade flashed like snow.

Su Bai had already moved the moment Ning Yuechan made her move.

He stood to the side the whole time, his eyes never leaving the fake constable.

The moment the man looked up, he saw those eyes—not the eyes of an ordinary constable, but the eyes of a wolf, the eyes of a predator, eyes that had seen blood and killed people.

When that person and Ning Yuechan clashed palms, his hand had already gripped the hilt of the knife.

His fingers tightened, the veins on the back of his hand bulged, and his knuckles turned white.

At that moment, the sword was drawn.

"Clang—"

The blade rubbed against the scabbard, producing a clear, long hum. A flash of light, like a streak of lightning, streaked through the air.

Zhenyue Saber Technique, First Form.

There were no fancy tricks, no variations, just a simple, straight cut.

But when this slash was unleashed, the air seemed to freeze. The blade struck with the force of a collapsing mountain, carrying an overwhelming power. The surrounding air was compressed by this slash, emitting a low, mournful sound, as if something was wailing.

The fake constable's expression changed.

He never expected that a mere jailer, someone he considered nothing more than a watchdog, could unleash such a powerful strike. The force of that strike, the purity of the internal energy, and the domineering nature of the swordsmanship were even more ferocious and terrifying than Ning Yuechan's palm strike.

He had no time to think and could only forcefully turn his body and strike the blade with his palm.

The wind howled through his palm, leaving it bluish-black and reeking of a foul stench.

"clang!"

The clash of palm and blade produced a metallic clang, like a hammer striking an anvil, making one's ears ring. The fake constable's palm faintly glowed with gold, clearly indicating he had also practiced martial arts, and at a considerable level. However, Su Bai's strike was too heavy, too fierce, and too domineering. Although he blocked it with his palm, he was still shaken to the side, stumbling several steps before regaining his balance, almost falling to the ground.

Su Bai landed, but his movements didn't stop. He lightly touched the ground with his feet and lunged forward again, unleashing a second slash.

Zhenyue Saber Technique, Second Form.

The sword strikes were continuous, one after another, like a mountain collapsing and boulders rolling down, each strike more powerful and heavier than the last. The sword light was as white as snow, drawing arc after arc in the air, weaving into an impenetrable net.

The fake constable's expression changed again.

He had initially thought that even if the jailer had some skill, he was only at the peak of the Divine Power Realm, at most barely touching the threshold of the True Qi Realm. But this slash, with its purity of internal energy and domineering power, clearly indicated that he was already at the True Qi Realm!

Moreover, it's not just the initial stage of True Qi Realm; it's the True Qi Realm with an extremely solid foundation and extremely powerful internal strength!

He had no time to think; he could only muster all his strength and strike with both palms simultaneously. His palms lashed out, creating a howling wind, and layers of dark blue palm shadows overlapped as he met the incoming blade light.

"boom!"

Another loud bang.

This time, the fake constable couldn't stop him. He was sent flying by Su Bai's slash, crashing heavily against the prison wall like a kite with a broken string.

"Bang!"

The brick wall trembled violently from his impact, cracking and spreading like a spiderweb, the longest crack reaching three feet in length. A shallow, human-shaped dent was blasted into the wall, brick fragments falling in a flurry, kicking up a cloud of dust. He spat out a mouthful of blood, the mist billowing in the air, splattering on the wall and the ground, a glaringly red hue. His face instantly turned deathly pale, as white as a corpse, blood still clinging to the corner of his mouth.

But he did not stay.

The instant he landed, he slammed his foot against the wall. The force of the impact left a deep footprint, shattering the bricks and sending stones flying. Using the momentum, he propelled himself away into the distance. His speed was astonishing, like a streak of gray light, disappearing into the depths of the alley in the blink of an eye, leaving only a series of hurried footsteps and the fading stench of blood.

Su Bai drew his sword to give chase, but Ning Yuechan called out to him as soon as he moved.

"Stop chasing."

Ning Yuechan's voice was not loud, but it carried an undeniable authority.

Su Bai paused, stopping in his tracks. He gripped the hilt of his sword, his gaze fixed on the direction where the fake constable had disappeared. His chest rose and fell slightly, but his breathing quickly returned to normal.

Ning Yuechan stepped forward and stood beside him. She gazed in the direction the fake constable had disappeared, her brow furrowed, her eyes grave. After a long silence, she spoke slowly, her voice thoughtful:

"Although he is at the True Qi Realm, his foundation is not as strong as yours. If you really want to chase him, you can catch up." She paused, "but what if he has accomplices lying in ambush? If you rashly chase after him, you might fall into their trap."

She turned her head and looked at Su Bai.

The gaze lingered on Su Bai's face for a moment, then slowly moved down to the knife in his hand before returning to his face. A complex expression flashed in his eyes—surprise, admiration, and something else entirely, like a mixture of relief and感慨 (gǎnkǎi, a feeling of mixed emotions, often including nostalgia or reflection).

"Your swordsmanship..." she began, her voice softer than before, yet still carrying a hint of inquiry, "When did you reach this level?"

Su Bai sheathed his sword. The blade made a soft, crisp "clang" as it went into its sheath. He clasped his hands in a respectful yet composed gesture: "Thanks to your blessing, sir, after achieving minor mastery of the Qingyuan Technique, my swordsmanship has also broken through."

Ning Yuechan stared at him for a moment.

The gaze was intense, as if trying to see right through him. Su Bai met that gaze calmly, his eyes neither flinching nor showing off.

Suddenly, Ning Yuechan smiled.

The smile was faint, with only the corners of the mouth slightly upturned, but the eyes and brows softened considerably, carrying a hint of relief and satisfaction.

"Okay." She said only this one word and didn't ask any more questions. That one word contained so much—approval, praise, and reassurance.

Wei Zhiyao stepped forward, looked at the cracks on the wall, then at the deep footprints on the ground, and finally his gaze fell on Su Bai.

His gaze held surprise, and a hint of deep thought.

But he didn't say anything, he just nodded to Su Bai as a greeting.

Su Bai returned the greeting, then turned to look at the prison gate.

There, a group of constables were frantically trying to put out a fire—the "fire" that the fake constable had mentioned was actually true.

Inside the prison, thick smoke could be faintly seen billowing from the doors and windows, swirling and turning in the sky.

The firelight flickered on the windows. Some people were rushing in with buckets of water, others were splashing water with basins, and still others were shouting "Hurry! Hurry up!" from outside. It was a chaotic scene.

"Put out the fire first," Ning Yuechan said, her voice steady and strong. "We can deal with the rest after the fire is out."

Su Bai nodded and strode towards the prison.

The fake constable's figure had just disappeared into the depths of the alley when a sharp whistling sound suddenly rang out from all around.

The howling sounds rose and fell, coming from all directions, like some kind of signal, or like a death knell. Immediately afterwards, dark figures darted out from the surrounding rooftops, alleyways, and corners of walls, surging towards the prison like a tide.

"Enemy attack—"

The constable guarding the door had barely uttered a shout when he was pounced on by a dark figure. The man was ruthless, striking the constable in the chest with a palm strike. The constable was sent flying backward, crashing into the wall, spitting out a mouthful of blood, and slumping to the ground.

More shadowy figures surged forward.

These men were dressed in various colors—coarse cloth short jackets, gray cloth long gowns, even tattered clothes like beggars—but without exception, their eyes were filled with murderous intent, and their movements were as swift as wolves. Some carried swords, others were unarmed, but their attacks were deadly and merciless. Although the county government and the guards of the Northern Garrison were elite, they were like paper in front of these desperate men, scattered and defeated in a single encounter.

"Form ranks! Form ranks!" someone shouted.

But the shouts were quickly drowned out by the sounds of fighting.

Su Bai had just reached the prison gate when he heard a commotion behind him. He turned around abruptly and saw that the open space was in complete chaos—swords flashed, blood splattered, screams, roars, and the clash of weapons were all mixed together.

His pupils suddenly contracted.

Three figures burst out from the chaos and rushed straight to Ning Yuechan's location.

The leader was a middle-aged man in his forties, with a square face, thick eyebrows, and eyes as sinister as an eagle's. He wore a black, close-fitting outfit, a long sword hanging at his waist. Each step he took made the bluestone slabs tremble slightly, his aura astonishing. That aura—far stronger than that of the fake constable from before—was as powerful and oppressive as a mountain, making it almost impossible to breathe.

Late stage of True Qi Realm.

Behind him were two men. One was in his early thirties, with a sallow complexion, deep-set eyes, and high cheekbones. He was as thin as a bamboo pole, but his hands were unusually large, with thick knuckles and a faint bluish tinge, clearly indicating that he had practiced martial arts. The other was the fake constable from before, with blood still on the corner of his mouth, a deathly pale face, but his eyes remained fierce.

"Ning Yuechan!" the leader spoke, his voice hoarse like a broken gong, yet carrying a chilling killing intent, "Today is your death day!"

Ning Yuechan's face was ashen.

She didn't speak, but simply gripped the hilt of the sword at her waist. The moment the sword was drawn, a flash of cold light appeared, the blade like a pool of autumn water, reflecting her cold and stern face. With a light step, she moved forward, the tip of her sword pointing directly at the leader.

"clang!"

The sword and palm collided, producing a crisp sound.

Ning Yuechan's sword was as fast as lightning, but the leader was even faster. He caught the blade with his bare hand, slamming his palm down on it, causing the sword to tremble violently and emit a groaning sound. Ning Yuechan felt a surge of powerful internal energy flow through the sword, her arm went numb, and she could barely hold onto it.

She shifted her feet, her body drifting backward, dissipating the force.

The leader sneered and lunged forward. His palm strikes were wide and sweeping, each strike accompanied by a whistling sound, the wind from his palms cutting like knives against her face. Although Ning Yuechan's swordsmanship was exquisite, she found herself unable to fully utilize it in the face of such an overwhelming difference in strength. She could only fight and retreat, her sword flashing as she protected herself, occasionally thrusting out a sword to force her opponent back.

On the other side, Wei Zhiyao had already faced the thin man with a sallow face.

The skinny man unleashed a pair of iron palms, each strike powerful and heavy, carrying immense force. Wei Zhiyao's martial arts were known for their composure; he met the attack head-on, palm after palm. The two clashed, producing muffled thuds, like pile drivers pounding the ground. Although he was only at the early stage of the True Qi Realm, his foundation was solid and his internal energy profound, allowing him to hold his own for a moment. However, the skinny man's iron palms were too domineering; each strike caused his blood to surge and his chest to feel tight.

Su Bai was facing off against the fake constable.

Although the man was injured, he was still at the mid-stage of the True Qi Realm, and his foundation remained intact. His first move was a killing blow; his palms flew, creating layers of dark blue-green palm shadows, carrying a foul stench, aimed directly at Su Bai's vitals. Su Bai's expression remained unchanged. He unleashed the Zhenyue Blade Technique, the blade light as white as snow, each strike like a collapsing mountain, shattering the palm shadows one by one.

But the fake constable's movements were unpredictable, shifting left and right, forward and backward, making it difficult for Su Bai's blade to lock onto him. The two exchanged more than ten blows, neither able to gain the upper hand.

But Su Bai knew in his heart that the other party was deliberately stalling for time.

He glanced at Ning Yuechan out of the corner of his eye, and his heart tightened.

Ning Yuechan was gradually losing her strength.

Her swordsmanship remained sharp, but her steps were faltering, fine beads of sweat appeared on her forehead, and her breathing became rapid. The leader's palm strikes grew increasingly fierce and rapid, forcing her to respond with all her might with each blow. Blood seeped from the corner of her mouth, a sign that her internal organs were being damaged by the surge of internal energy.

"clang!"

Another loud bang.

Ning Yuechan's sword was deflected by the leader's palm, leaving her wide open. A cold glint flashed in his eyes, and he struck her chest with his palm. The palm strike was swift and ruthless, the wind whistling through it, carrying a deadly force.

Ning Yuechan's expression changed, and she tried her best to dodge to the side. But the palm strike was too fast, and she still couldn't completely avoid it, her left shoulder being grazed by the force of the palm.

"Bang!"

She was sent flying backward, spitting out a mouthful of blood mid-air, and crashed heavily into the wall. The wall shook from the impact, bricks shattering, and her body slid limply against the wall, her face ashen. A section of her left shoulder was caved in, a sign that the bone had been shattered. She struggled to stand up, but her strength failed her, and she slumped back down.

"grown ups!"

Su Bai's pupils suddenly contracted.

He could no longer care about his opponent. He pushed off with his feet and lunged at Ning Yuechan like an arrow.

How could the fake constable let it go?

He sneered and slapped Su Bai on the back.

The palm strike whistled, carrying a foul stench, aimed straight for his back.

Su Bai didn't even turn his head.

He activated his Golden Bell Shield, and golden light flowed beneath his skin, instantly covering his entire body.

"clang!"

The palm struck Su Bai squarely on the back, producing a loud clang like metal striking metal.

Su Bai's body trembled, feeling a sharp pain, but he endured it and rushed straight to Ning Yuechan without stopping.

He turned around, stood with his sword drawn, and blocked Ning Yuechan's path.

"Su Bai..." Ning Yuechan leaned against the wall, her face pale and her voice weak.

She looked at the back of the figure blocking her way, a complex expression flashing in her eyes—surprise, emotion, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on.

Su Bai did not turn around.

His gaze was fixed on the three figures approaching.

The leader stood with his hands behind his back, a playful smile on his lips.

The fake constable stood beside him, licking the blood from the corner of his mouth, his eyes filled with malice.

The sallow-faced, thin man also ended his fight with Wei Zhiyao, retreated, and stood on the other side.

Wei Zhiyao tried to rush over, but was entangled by several powerful demons from the Reincarnation Sect and could not break free for a while.

"Interesting." The leader spoke, his voice tinged with mockery. "A mere jailer managed to withstand a blow from Zhou Tong and survive. Golden Bell Shield? Not bad."

He paused, his gaze falling on Su Bai, his eyes cold and venomous as he scrutinized him from head to toe.

"But do you think you can stop the three of us?"

Su Bai did not answer.

He simply gripped the knife tightly, his gaze fixed coldly on his opponent. His back was ramrod straight, like a javelin, completely still. Blood continued to trickle from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto his clothes and spreading a dark red stain.

Behind her, Ning Yuechan struggled to stand up, but she was too weak. She reached out and grabbed Su Bai's sleeve, her voice weak: "You... go... don't worry about me..."

Su Bai still did not turn around.

He moved slightly, letting her hand slip, and then took a step forward.

This step was taken firmly, leaving a shallow footprint on the bluestone slab.

He gripped the hilt of the knife tightly, slowly raised the blade, and pointed the tip at the three True Qi Realm experts.

"If you want to touch her," his voice wasn't loud, but each word was clear and distinct, "you'll have to get past me first."

Upon hearing this, the leader's smile deepened.

The smile held a mocking and playful tone, like watching an ant struggle or a joke unfolding before your eyes.

He stood with his hands behind his back, not making a move immediately, but rather observing Su Bai with great interest—from head to toe, from the hand holding the knife to the slight rise and fall of his chest, scrutinizing every detail.

"Interesting, very interesting." He spoke slowly, his voice hoarse yet exuding the composure of a cat toying with a mouse. "A mere jailer, but he's got some backbone. Too bad, backbone alone is useless."

As soon as he finished speaking, he suddenly moved.

That movement was as fast as a ghost—one moment it was three zhang away, and the next it was in front of Su Bai.

A palm struck out, its tip tinged with a bluish-black hue and carrying a foul stench, aiming straight for Su Baitian's skull. The force of the palm whistled, so intense it was almost impossible for him to open his eyes.

Su Bai's pupils suddenly contracted.

He couldn't retreat, nor could he. Behind him lay the severely wounded Ning Yuechan; if he took a step back, she would die.

He gritted his teeth and slashed out with his sword.

The Zhenyue Saber Technique, third move. The saber's momentum is like a mountain, unstoppable.

"clang!"

The blade and palm clashed, producing a deafening roar. Su Bai felt an overwhelming surge of internal energy flow through the blade, numbing his tiger's mouth and almost causing his entire arm to lose all feeling.

The blade trembled violently, emitting a buzzing wail, and nearly flew out of my hand.

He took three steps back, each step leaving a deep footprint on the bluestone slab.

As he landed his third step, he suddenly stopped, managing to steady himself, and another trickle of blood spilled from the corner of his mouth.

The leader merely swayed before lunging forward again.

This time, his palm strikes were faster, fiercer, and more ruthless.

One palm strike after another, like a violent storm, came crashing down from the sky.

Each palm strike carries the powerful internal force of a late-stage True Qi Realm cultivator; each strike is enough to shatter stone tablets and kill people.

Su Bai used all his strength to swing his sword and defend himself.

One cut, two cuts, three cuts...

His swordsmanship remained sharp, and he executed every move of the Zhenyue Sword Technique to its fullest extent.

However, in the face of an absolute difference in strength, even the most exquisite swordsmanship is difficult to overcome.

The leader's palm strikes were so powerful that each strike made his blood surge, and his internal organs felt as if they were being squeezed, crushed, and torn apart.

To make matters worse, the other two people also made a move.

The fake constable Zhou Tong pounced from the side and struck Su Bai's left rib with a palm.

The palm strike carried a foul stench, clearly poisoned. Su Bai dodged to the side, but was forced to take a direct hit from Zhou Tong's palm by the leader's strike.

"Bang!"

The palm struck his left ribs squarely. The golden light of the Golden Bell Shield flickered, and he managed to withstand the blow, but Su Bai still let out a muffled groan.

The internal force of that palm strike, penetrating through the golden light, caused his ribs to ache faintly; he didn't know if they had cracked.

Before he could even catch his breath, the sallow-faced, skinny man also made his move.

The skinny man's iron palms lashed out, swift and powerful, aiming straight for his back.

Su Bai turned around and slashed out with his sword, striking the pair of iron palms. However, the blow only forced the skinny man to take a step back, while Su Bai himself staggered and almost fell.

The three attacked in unison, their teamwork impeccable.

The leader focused on frontal attacks, each palm strike carrying immense power, forcing Su Bai to fight back with all his might.

Zhou Tong roamed the flanks, targeting his weak points in defense, each palm strike ruthless and vicious.

The skinny man waited for his chance to strike. As soon as Su Bai showed a weakness, he pounced on him and smashed him with his iron palms, causing Su Bai's blood to surge.

Su Bai was like a small boat on a raging sea, struggling desperately in the storm.

He continued to swing his knife, one strike after another, without stopping.

But his steps had begun to falter, his breathing became erratic, and his hand gripping the knife began to tremble. The golden light of the Golden Bell Shield flickered on his body, but it was not as bright as it had been at the beginning—a sign of excessive depletion of his internal energy.

Blood streamed down his lips, arms, and ribs, dripping onto the ground and forming a small puddle.

His clothes were soaked in blood, indistinguishable between his own and the enemy's. His vision began to darken, and his ears rang—symptoms of excessive blood loss and depletion of internal energy.

But he did not fall.

He didn't even step back.

He stood there, blocking Ning Yuechan's way, like a statue, like a mountain.

"Su Bai..." Ning Yuechan's weak voice came from behind, her voice choked with sobs and urgency, "You...you go quickly...don't worry about me..."

Su Bai did not answer.

He didn't even turn his head.

He simply gripped the knife tighter, then swung it again, slicing away the palm strike that the leader was about to deliver.

That slash, though lacking its previous power, was still sharp and resolute.

The leader frowned.

He had thought he could take down this arrogant jailer within three moves. But now, thirty moves had passed, and the jailer was still standing, still blocking his way, still hadn't fallen.

This made him somewhat irritable.

"Interesting." He scoffed. "I'd like to see how long you can hold out."

He waved his hand, and the three pounced on him again.

This time, the offensive was even fiercer.

The leader struck out with both palms, one aimed at Su Bai's chest and the other at his lower abdomen.

Zhou Tong lunged at him from the side and behind, striking him on the back of the neck with a palm. The skinny man then flanked him from the other side, smashing his iron palms into his waist.

Caught in a pincer movement, there was no way to avoid it.

Su Bai exerted all his strength, slashing at the leader with his sword while simultaneously dodging Zhou Tong's sneak attack.

But you can only take care of the present, not the future.

The skinny man's iron palm slammed solidly into his lower back.

"Bang!"

With a muffled thud, Su Bai lunged forward, spitting out a mouthful of blood that sprayed into a cloud of blood mist in the air.

His invincible defenses finally gave way—a sharp pain shot through his lower back, the sound of bones cracking.

He staggered to his feet, nearly falling to his knees.

But he still stopped.

He used the knife to support himself on the ground and slowly straightened up.

His face was ashen, and his mouth, chin, and clothes were covered in blood.

His eyes, however, remained bright, frighteningly bright, like two burning flames.

The leader looked at him, a strange glint in his eyes.

It was surprise, it was admiration, but it was also a deeper killing intent.

"Such hard bones," he said slowly. "Unfortunately, even the hardest bones will break."

He raised his hand, his inner strength condensing in his palm, the bluish-black color becoming increasingly intense, even faintly glowing with an eerie light.

He was going to use all his strength in this palm strike.

Zhou Tong and the skinny man also gathered their strength, preparing for the final blow.

The three attacked at the same time—

Three overwhelming internal forces surged towards Su Bai simultaneously from three directions.

Right at this moment.

At that critical moment of life and death.

Su Bai's mind suddenly went blank.

All sounds vanished—the howling palm wind, the screams behind him, the sounds of fighting in the distance, all disappeared.

All the images blurred—the three hideous faces, the three slapping hands, the blood-red light and the shadows of knives, all blurred.

All that's left is the knife.

All that remained was the knife in his hand.

Only the Zhenyue Sword Technique remains.

The nine sword techniques flashed through his mind one by one: the first, the second, the third... all the way to the ninth.

Every move is crystal clear, and every move is memorized.

But at this moment, they are no longer the nine isolated styles, but have become one, merging into a mountain.

A majestic, imposing, and unshakeable mountain.

Zhenshan.

He suddenly understood.

The Zhenyue Sword Technique doesn't suppress the mountain, but rather the mountain itself.

Yue is an inanimate object, but the mountain has a soul.

Mountains have their own meaning, their own power, and their own spirit.

The mountain stands there, for thousands of years, enduring wind and rain, lightning and thunder, unmoved and unshaken.

It's not because the mountain is so hard, but because the mountain has a purpose—to suppress everything, to bear everything, and to remain as immovable as a mountain.

That is the intent of the sword.

The intent of the Mountain-Suppressing Blade.

Su Bai opened his eyes.

In that instant, his aura suddenly changed.

Before, he was like a dying beast, fierce yet weak and desperate.

But now, he's like a mountain.

A mountain awakening from chaos, a mountain about to suppress everything.

He gripped the knife handle tightly.

The blade slowly rose.

There were no fancy tricks, no variations, just a simple, straightforward slash.

But when this slash was unleashed, the heavens and earth seemed to freeze.

An invisible aura burst forth from the blade, like a mountain descending, suppressing all directions.

The surrounding air instantly became incredibly heavy, as if an invisible mountain was pressing down on one's head, making it hard to breathe and unable to move.

The leader's expression changed drastically.

The palm strike he unleashed was originally powerful and overwhelming, but compared to this blade, it was like a child's toy, insignificant and not worth mentioning.

He felt his internal energy being suppressed, crushed, and completely unable to be used.

He felt as if his body was imprisoned by an invisible force, as if he were nailed to the spot, unable to move or escape.

Zhou Tong and the skinny man were even more so.

The force of their palm strikes vanished without a trace before that single blade, like a clay ox sinking into the sea.

Their eyes widened in terror and despair. They wanted to retreat, to escape, but their bodies wouldn't obey them, and they could only watch helplessly as the blade came crashing down upon them.

The blade flashed like snow.

One slash, three cuts.

The blade of light split into three in mid-air, and the three blades of light simultaneously slashed towards the three people.

"puff--"

Blood splattered everywhere.

The leader's head flew high into the air, arcing through the air before crashing to the ground with a thud, rolling twice before settling in a pool of blood.

His eyes were still wide open, filled with disbelief, as if he couldn't believe he would die at the hands of a lowly jailer.

The blade pierced Zhou Tong's chest, leaving a gaping hole the size of a bowl. He looked down at his chest, opened his mouth as if to say something, but couldn't utter a sound. Then he fell straight down, crashing to the ground and raising a cloud of dust.

The skinny man's iron hand was severed at the wrist by the blade, and then the blade sliced ​​across his neck, sending his head flying as well. It landed some distance away, and blood gushed out like a fountain.

The three bodies fell down almost simultaneously.

Blood flowed, pooling together and spreading across the bluestone slabs, staining the ground, the glint of the blade, and Su Bai's feet red.

Su Bai stood there.

He gripped the knife, its blade dripping with blood, drop by drop, from the tip.

He was covered in blood, some of his own and some of his enemies'. His face was deathly pale, but his eyes shone brightly, like two burning stars.

He stood there, motionless, like a mountain.

After a long while, he slowly turned around and looked at Ning Yuechan.

Ning Yuechan leaned against the wall, her face pale and her left shoulder sunken, but her eyes were fixed on Su Bai, filled with shock, disbelief, and something else she couldn't quite put her finger on—it was awe, reverence, and disbelief.

She opened her mouth, as if to say something, but couldn't utter a word.

Su Bai looked at her, the corners of his mouth slightly upturned, wanting to laugh, but the movement aggravated his wound, and he frowned.

He staggered, using his knife to brace himself against the ground and regain his balance.

"It's alright," he said, his voice hoarse but calm.

Then, everything went black before his eyes, and he fell forward.

The moment Su Bai collapsed, Ning Yuechan, with a sudden burst of strength, lunged forward.

Her left shoulder was fractured, and even the slightest movement caused excruciating pain. But she gritted her teeth and used her right hand to pull Su Bai into her arms, shielding him. Su Bai pressed down on her, heavy as a rock, but she held on tightly, refusing to let go.

"Su Bai! Su Bai!" she called his name urgently, her voice filled with an unprecedented panic.

Su Bai did not respond. His eyes were tightly closed, his face was ashen, and blood was still seeping from the corner of his mouth, dripping onto her clothes and spreading in patches of dark red.

Ning Yuechan took a deep breath, forcing herself to calm down. She checked Su Bai's breath with her right hand—he was still breathing, albeit weakly. She then reached out and touched his chest; his heartbeat was still there, though somewhat erratic.

She quickly pulled a porcelain bottle from her bosom.

Those were the life-saving pills she always carried with her. They were specially made by the Ning family, using dozens of precious medicinal herbs such as century-old ginseng, snow lotus, and lingzhi. There were only three of them in total, and she kept them close to her body, reluctant to use them.

At that moment, she poured out one without hesitation.

The pill was the size of a longan, dark brown in color, and emitted a rich medicinal fragrance.

She brought the pill to Su Bai's lips, but found that he clenched his teeth and couldn't feed it to him at all.

She gritted her teeth, reached out and pinched Su Bai's chin hard.

That pinch used up all her remaining strength, and the pain sent another sharp ache through her left shoulder, but she couldn't care less.

She forcefully pried open Su Bai's jaw, inserted the pill, lifted his chin, and gently patted his throat.

The pill was swallowed.